


the sky is getting heavy tonight

by thewindwarns



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-29
Updated: 2011-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewindwarns/pseuds/thewindwarns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sybil is the third daughter, the youngest. (Set between Series 1 & 2, no major spoilers for the second season.)  Written for the Downton Abbey Comment Ficathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sky is getting heavy tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Title: the sky is getting heavy tonight  
> Fandom: Downton Abbey  
> Word Count: 508 words  
> Characters/Pairings: Sybil; Sybil/Branson  
> Summary: She is the third daughter, the youngest. Set between Series 1 & 2.  
> Notes: Written for ash_light's prompt (Sybil & Branson: things best left unsaid) at the [Downton Abbey Comment Ficathon](http://dollsome.livejournal.com/1658661.html). Title is from Twin Atlantic's "What is Light? Where is Laughter?"

Mary teaches her how to flirt and Edith demonstrates when not to; she is charming enough on her own accord and for that, Sybil never worries about her prospects. She is the third daughter, the youngest, but not entirely unaware of her most pleasant qualities.

There were only so many times one could have trouble and stall on the side of the road -- stopping to converse about elections and societal contracts while the chauffeur examined the extent of the damages -- before the passenger began to suspect that perhaps it was the intent of the driver and not the fault of the machine.

In the quiet of the dark, she says the words aloud, trying them out like a new dress. "It is only an infatuation. It will pass soon enough." (She does not need her sisters to tell her this truth: in the stories it is always the prince that the princess will marry.)

\-----

It does not weaken nor fade, not in the slightest, but she will not let herself admit that perhaps it has become that much stronger (that she has led him to this place). She is not the girl others would disparage of, utterly careless with someone else's heart. She is one, instead, that seeks to know her own.

He reaches for her hand at the garden party and she allows him to take it, tries to decipher the meaning behind such a small but grand gesture before Mrs. Hughes appears. He does not approach her after and she does not seek him, reminded of the eyes watching (constantly for her, as the moment required for him).

They regress soon after; a part of her is relieved. (The confrontation of the extent of his feelings -- of _hers_ \-- is once again delayed.)

\-----

They do not speak of it again, not for a while, not until they are driving back from Ripon and she asks for a change, to speak of anything but war. (The anxiousness of idleness, the fact that Cousin Isobel laments that men wake up screaming for the dead and she can still dream of frocks and balls, rattles her.)

His apology is sudden but not entirely unexpected, though August seemed an age ago.) She was born and bred a lady, ends the conversation with a gentle deflection. "It's alright, Branson. We were all giddy about Gwen's good news. She wrote to say she finds her new position quite rewarding."

He is silent until they arrive home, does not spend a second longer meeting her gaze as she steps out of the car. For now, perhaps, that is answer enough. (She hopes it is.)

\-----

It is weeks before they can settle back into a comfortable pattern of conversation, of friendship. He is patient and she is glad for it.

Sybil may be daring, but she is not always brave, should not have to bear the burden of constantly being so. She is the third daughter, the youngest, but she still has -- _wants_ \-- time to _grow_.


End file.
